Midnight's Lair

by Richard Laymon

  'I'm sure you are. But you're staying unless you've got some kind of overwhelming reason to get out fast.'

  'You're not being fair.'

  'I'm being practical. You're staying here.' She turned to the heavy man with the cigar. 'You, too.'

  'You're the captain,' he said.

  Darcy smiled. 'Thanks.' She scanned the others. 'Greg, I want you to come. Jim and Beth - you've both been a lot of help, so you're welcome to join us… though God knows why you'd want to.'

  'I miss the sunlight,' Beth said.

  'And we have dinner plans,' said Jim.

  'Well, you're in.' Darcy looked at the remaining four. 'I only want to take two more, and I think men…'

  'I have to go with you,' said the woman with the glasses. 'I'm a diabetic. I left my insulin in the hotel. I need to follow a special diet and I didn't expect to miss lunch. I'm afraid that if…'

  'Okay. You're in. Both of you.' She turned to the matching men. 'Sorry, fellows.'

  'It's quite all right with me,' said one. 'It was all Brian's idea, and I'm sure I would much prefer to stay cozy and snug by the fire.'

  'You're such a sissy,' said Brian.

  'You wouldn't have me any other way.'

  Darcy raised her voice. 'Okay, my group is ready to go. I'll be leaving Tom in charge here with one of the flashlights. We'll be as quick as possible. For all I know, you people might be out before we are. In any case, you won't be in here for more than a few hours.

  'Any questions before we go?'

  There were no questions. A few people wished them good luck. Someone said, 'Break a leg.'

  'We'll try to avoid that,' Darcy said.

  Crouching, she rushed to one of the blazing elevators. The heat pressed against her. She squinted into the debris, then grabbed a broken length of plank. She backed up, pulling it out. Its end was burning. It would make a fine torch for as long as it lasted, and postpone the time when she would need to use the flashlight.

  Greg, hurrying past her, found a fiery brand for himself.

  Jim did the same.

  Those staying behind stood in silence as Darcy, her torch held high, led her small group into the darkness.

  ***

  'You don't get me going in there,' Lynn said as Hank pulled out of the parking lot. He glimpsed the burning hotel in the rear-view mirror. 'I mean, Elizabeth Mordock's body is in there.'

  Chris looked over her shoulder. 'You don't have to go in. All we want you to do is show us where the place is.'

  'You won't be able to get in.'

  'We'll get in,' Hank said. He glanced at Chris. 'We have to make a detour into town, first. There's a shopping centre. Paula and I stopped for doughnuts this morning. I think it had a hardware store.'

  'Yeah,' Lynn said. 'Andy's. I've been there a few times. They've got all kinds of stuff.'

  Hank slowed the car to round a bend, then picked up speed again. The trees along the roadside flashed by in a blur of green.

  Where the hell are the fire trucks? he wondered. Then he thought, who needs them? If they'd shown up in time to save the elevator area… The way it's going, we'll reach the girls before the fire even gets knocked down. That's if the fire department shows up at all.

  Maybe they were busy at another call.

  Maybe that guy in the Jeep changed his mind about reporting it.

  Doesn't matter any more. We'll get the girls out.

  Hank shuddered.

  I can't go into that cavern.

  He imagined the darkness, the walls closing in on him, suffocating him.

  I can do it, he told himself. I'll have to do it. I can't send Chris in alone.

  'Are you okay?' Chris asked.

  'Does it show?'

  'I'm just worried about Paula.'

  'I've told you,' Lynn said from the back seat. 'Everybody's safe down there. What won't be safe is leading that whole bunch out through the bad end of the cave. I mean, I don't think you know what you're doing.'

  Hank sped around a curve, saw a stop sign ahead, and hit the brakes. As the car slowed, he checked the main road. Nothing in sight. He rolled past the sign, swung onto the road and floored the accelerator. The car shot forward, pressing him into the seat.

  'What do you suppose that was all about?' Chris asked.

  'Back in the lobby.'

  'And Mordock being dead?' Lynn wanted to know.

  'A guy came in with buckets of gasoline and a cigar,' Hank said. 'He was upset about some woman he thought had been a guest at the hotel. Apparently, he thought Mordock had done something to her. He doused Mordock with gasoline, and Mordock suddenly started busting caps.'

  'Started what?' Lynn asked.

  'Shooting at him. The guy tossed his cigar, and poof.'

  'Man,' Lynn murmured.

  'What did he think Mordock did to her?' Chris asked. 'Made her disappear. I guess this guy had talked to Mordock about it before. He seemed sure that the gal had checked in, but Mordock must've shown him the registration cards to prove that she hadn't. Her card wasn't there. That's what convinced the guy that Mordock was behind her disappearance.'

  'He must've been crazy,' Chris said.

  'The gal was probably his sister or wife or something.'

  'I wonder what Mordock did with her.'

  'Who says he did anything?' Lynn argued. 'Just because some guy accuses him…'

  'The man seemed absolutely certain she checked in. She'd probably phoned him from the hotel.'

  'I had Mordock figured for a sleaze,' Chris said. 'But it's hard to imagine he actually… do you suppose he killed her?'

  'I bet the guy with the gas thought so.'

  'Ethan wouldn't do that,' Lynn said. 'He was a nice guy-'

  'I got the feeling he was too nice,' Chris told her. 'At least as far as pretty women were concerned. I noticed you didn't seem very upset when I told you he was dead.'

  'I don't care about him one way or the other. I mean, it's too bad he got killed and everything. But I don't think he was some kind of a lunatic going around murdering his guests like that guy in Psycho. That's nutty. And I don't think it's nice to dump on him now that he's crumped.'

  'Somebody got rid of that woman's registration card,' Chris pointed out.

  'Assuming she did check in,' Hank said.

  'I have a feeling she did.'

  'So do I.'

  'That doesn't mean Ethan had something to do with it,' Lynn persisted.

  She sure is sticking up for him, Hank thought. Maybe she'd been involved with him. Possible. It couldn't have been a very serious relationship, though, or she'd be more upset about his death.

  None of my business, he decided.

  As his car bore down on the rear of a station wagon, Hank swerved across the centre line. In an instant, he passed the station wagon. He swung back into his lane. The wagon shrank in the rear-view mirror.

  'If anybody was nuts around there,' Lynn said, 'it was that kid Kyle.'

  'Who's he?' Chris asked.

  'Ethan's kid. Wouldn't surprise me much if he tried messing around with a guest. I wouldn't put anything past him. Spooky kid. He really had Darcy going crazy.'

  'He'd have access to the registration cards,' Hank said.

  Chris turned around on her seat and looked back at Lynn. Her left knee touched the side of Hank's leg. He glanced at her smooth thigh. It was draped by a corner of her shirt. The bottom of the shirt was open. Between her legs, the swimsuit was narrow and tight. Hank didn't allow himself more than a glimpse before forcing his eyes back to the road.

  'What did he do to Darcy?' Chris asked.

  'Not much. I mean, he had a… he was interested in her. He kept going on her tours and staring at her. You'd be surprised how many guys on those tours get very interested in us. I don't know, maybe it's the uniform. These teenage guys, you can almost see their mouths watering. You just… it's flattering, you know, and nothing much ever… they take the tour and go away, you never see them again. But not Kyle. He's always around. And h
e's Ethan's son, so Darcy wasn't real eager to tell him to fff… bug off.'

  'This Kyle…' Chris's voice stopped. Her head snapped towards the front.

  'It's about time,' Hank said, hearing the sirens. Slowing down only slightly, he eased the car to the right. The side tyres rumbled on the gravel at the edge of the road.

  The sirens blared louder, louder, and a police car shot around the bend and flashed past, lights whirling. Next came the red car of the fire chief. Then an emergency rescue van, a pumper truck, a hook and ladder. They roared by and the noise faded. Hank swung back onto the road and pressed the accelerator down.

  'Nothing that'll get our kids out,' he said. 'They'll need a bulldozer, probably. Maybe a crane.'

  Chris nodded. Her face was grim. She turned her head to look at Lynn in the back seat.

  Hank glanced again at her inner thigh, the clinging swimsuit. He felt a warm rush of arousal and guilt. Keep your damned eyes on the road, he told himself. 'You said this kid, Kyle, went on her tours.'

  'Yeah, and he'd just gaze at her. It was like he had a crush on Darcy. Only with him, "crush" doesn't seem like the right way to put it. It seems too… I don't know.'

  'Innocent?' Chris asked.

  'Yeah. I mean, he's only like fifteen but he doesn't come across as innocent. He's pretty spooky for a kid.'

  'Was he on the tour this morning?' Chris asked.

  'Yeah, he was. We passed, you know? Darcy's was taking her bunch in, and mine was on the way out. Yeah, Kyle was right behind her.'

  'Great,' Chris muttered.

  She looked at Hank. He met her worried gaze, shook his head, and put his hand on her leg. He felt guilty about that. I'm just comforting her, he told himself, and kept his hand there. 'I'm sure it's all right,' he said.

  She put her hand over his.

  'Yeah,' Lynn said. 'He's not gonna…'

  'You just told me you wouldn't put anything past him,' Chris reminded the girl.

  'Well

  'Chris,' Hank said, 'there are over thirty people down there.' Including Paula, he thought. Paula. The same age as the kid, and alone.

  Kyle had access to the registration cards.

  Kyle could have made that other girl disappear.

  Paula's trapped down there with him.

  But it's Darcy he's got the hots for. And there are all those other people. He wouldn't try anything.

  'Darcy can take care of herself,' Chris muttered as if trying to reassure herself.

  Ahead was a traffic light. It was red. As Hank slowed down, he saw the shopping centre beyond the intersection. The sight of it should have been a relief. Instead, Hank felt his stomach knot.

  We're that much closer.

  When we leave, we'll be heading for the cavern.

  I'll be okay, he told himself.

  Like hell.

  As long as Paula's okay, that's all that counts. And Darcy. If that fucker's messed with them, he'll pay.

  The light turned green.

  ***

  'You two go on ahead,' Chris said as they walked across the parking lot. 'I'll go to the sporting goods store and meet you back at the car.'

  'They've probably got flashlights at Andy's,' Hank said.

  'I need clothes. If they have a Coleman lantern, I'll pick up one of those and some flashlights.'

  'If you really plan on going into the cavern,' Lynn said to Hank, 'you should have a sweatshirt or something. You'll be cold in that.' She fingered the front of his knit shirt.

  'I'll pick up something warm for you,' Chris told him. 'I'd already planned on it.'

  He reached into the back pocket of his shorts and took out his wallet.

  'Forget it,' Chris told him. 'You take care of the pick or whatever.'

  Lynn went along with Hank, which suited Chris fine. She hadn't cared much for Lynn from the moment Darcy introduced her yesterday. The girl had struck her as being not only a little vague, but irresponsible. And back in the car, the way she'd taken Mordock's side when anyone could see that the guy was a creep - he's dead, Chris reminded herself.

  And maybe his son's as bad as he was, or worse. The kid had a lech for Darcy.

  I can thank Lynn for that cheerful information.

  The girl had seemed to savour telling her about it. A juicy bit of gossip.

  Hey, guess what. You think Ethan was a creep, you should get a load of his son. Oh, and by the way, he's hot for your daughter and he's in the cave with her. God only knows what he might be up to. I tell you, I wouldn't put anything past him.

  Just what I wanted to hear.

  Then she's running her fingers down Hank's chest. Not only a twit, but a flirt.

  Chris entered the sporting goods store. The air inside was cool on her bare legs.

  A man standing in the checkout line stared at them. Big deal. Hasn't he seen legs before?

  She grabbed a shopping cart and rolled it through the aisles until she came to the sportswear section. She found warm-up suits in her size, picked a blue one and dropped it into the cart. She found a plain grey sweatshirt for Hank, then changed her mind and chose a warm-up suit for him. After all, she thought, he's not only wearing the shirt Lynn seemed so fond of touching, but shorts. Surprising that Lynn didn't give those a stroke, while she was at it.

  Remembering the stares of the man in the checkout line, Chris picked up a pair of jogging shorts for herself. Then she headed for the shoe department, and threw some white socks into her cart.

  As she scanned the shoe display, a young man with a moustache and the heavily muscled body of a weight lifter approached her.

  'Can I help you with something?'

  'I'd like a pair of running shoes. White. Size six.'

  'Have a seat. I'd better measure. It's very important, particularly with athletic shoes, to have a perfect fit.'

  'I'm in a hurry. Size six will be fine. Regular width.'

  'If you say so.' He sounded slightly reproachful.

  'Any particular style or brand?'

  'Something like this,' she said, pointing out a white Reebok on the display wall.

  'Excellent choice.' He lifted the sample and inspected it.

  'May I help you?' asked an older man approaching from the side.

  The one with the muscles held the shoe towards him. 'We'd like a pair of these in size six, regular width.'

  'Certainly.' He disappeared into the storeroom.

  'You don't work here,' Chris said.

  'I hope you won't hold it against me. My name's Brad.' He made a smile which he obviously considered charming.

  'You have a foot fetish?'

  'Legs, and so on. Oh, don't look so annoyed. You're flattered, and you know it.'

  'Give me a break.'

  He arched an eyebrow. 'You're a very beautiful woman.'

  'Thanks. But I'm also very busy.'

  'Are you alone?'

  'Not as alone as I'd like to be.'

  'Ha! I like a woman with a good sense of humour.' The batwing doors swung open and the salesman came out with two shoeboxes in his arms. 'You might want to try these, first.' He gave her the box on top. 'They're six and a half. Reebok sizes run fairly small.'

  Chris sat down. She felt the chair's vinyl upholstery against the backs of her legs. Both men stood in front of her, watching as she bent over and slipped into one of the shoes. 'Feels fine,' she said, and took it off.

  'You'd better try it with a sock on,' Brad suggested. He stepped to her shopping cart, took out the athletic socks, and handed them to her.

  'Thanks,' she said, wishing he would disappear.

  She pulled a sock on, then stepped into the shoe again.

  'How's that?' asked the salesman.

  'Good.'

  Squatting, he began to lace the shoe. The bald top of his head was sunburned and peeling. He tied a bow, then squeezed the sides of the shoe, its toe. He nodded. He murmured, 'Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm.' Chris couldn't see his eyes. But she thought she could feel their gaze like oiled fingers sliding up her thighs
.

  I never should've come in here dressed this way, she thought.

  The salesman tipped his head back and smiled up at her. 'They seem all right to me,' he said.

  'Maybe you should try walking in them,' Brad suggested.

  Right. Let's have a parade!

  'These fit fine. I'll take them.'

  'Would you like to wear them now, or…'

  'No.' As the salesman reached down to remove the shoe, she brought her foot up. She propped it on her knee and quickly removed the shoe and sock. While the shoe was being boxed, she slipped into her sandal and stood up. She was glad to be standing, glad to have the shirt draping her thighs.

  'Will there be anything else?' the salesman asked.

  'I'll just look around, thanks.' She put the socks and shoebox into the shopping cart, and headed away.

  Brad stayed at her side.

  'Don't you have something better to do?' she asked.

  He grinned. 'If I did, I'd be doing it.'

  Chris steered the cart into an aisle between displays of camping equipment. She found a Coleman lantern and lifted its box into the cart. Brad lifted a one-gallon tin of fuel.

  'Want this?' he asked.

  'Thanks,' she muttered.

  'Going on a camping trip?'

  'Something like that.' Beyond the end of the aisle, backpacks were hanging on the wall. She chose a small red one.

  'That won't hold much,' Brad informed her.

  Ignoring the comment, she added it to her collection.

  She came to the flashlights. Some were as long as her forearm, others no larger than a pencil. Some had casings of ribbed metal, some of rubber, others of red plastic. She decided the plastic ones would do fine. She counted them as she placed them into her shopping cart.

  'Going out with a girl scout troop?' Brad asked.

  Eight. That was all they had, but there were metal ones the same size so she began putting those into her cart.

  'That's a lot of flashlights.'

  She looked at Brad.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  'There are about forty people trapped in Mordock Cavern. I'm going in with a friend to get them out.'

  He looked her in the eyes. 'You're shitting me.'

  'Right. I figure I need twenty lights.'